Page 18 of The Count

He pushed the ginger back in, holding his thumb over the base as my body revolted against it. My asshole tensed around the base several times. The wet sound of it was humiliating, but my clit throbbed anyway like a damn traitor.

My pussy was stinging so much that it was nearly unbearable.

“Please use your belt. Anything but this,” I begged. He chuckled softly.

“You don’t need me to take it out, little girl,” he replied.

“Yes! Please! I do need it out,” I wailed.

I’d have chosen his hand to spank my pussy over this. This was unexpectedly terrible, and the burning refused to cease, growing worse and more overwhelming with every terrible second.

“Tell me what you really need,” he coaxed.

“I’m sorry!” I tried. I didn’t know what else to do. I hoped he’d take pity on me, maybe grant me mercy if I showed him that I was contrite.

“It’s okay, little girl. I forgive you,” he replied gently. He slapped my pussy lightly and I would have jumped off the table if he wasn’t holding me down.

“Please, I won’t leave my room at night again,” I pleaded.

“I know you won’t, little girl.”

He didn’t make any move to take the ginger out, but a part of me had known he wouldn’t. He wanted me to admit that I wanted more, that I wanted him to take his big thick cock out and fuck me with it until I couldn’t stand.

Icouldn’tadmit that.

The burn grew worse, and I whimpered, blinking back tears.

“It hurts,” I wailed.

“I know, little girl. But you need it to hurt. You need this so you can finally tell me what you really need,” he explained. There was a gentleness to his tone that made me feel safe even among the confusing feelings of a very punished and very aroused little girl.

My entire body quaked.

This wasn’t about pain or punishment or shame, not really.

This was about giving up control.

This was about him taking it.

I gasped against the table, rounding my back, and tensing for one last moment before the rest of my fight fled from me.

I opened my mouth and closed it again, struggling to get the words out and knowing I had to. He didn’t rush me, and I was grateful for it, but the longer I waited, the more the ginger stung. As if he knew I needed one last push, his fingers tenderly pressed between my legs, capturing my clit.

He started to tease me.

His touch was perfection, as if he’d had a lifetime to learn my body and already knew how to please it. My focus was torn between the stinging ginger and his expert fingers, and I lost all sense of control.

I surrendered.

“Please,” I begged.

“Please what, little girl?”

“Please, fuck me,” I pleaded quietly.

“You’re going to have to be much more specific than that, little girl,” he answered, and I whined into the table. His touch strummed over my clit, pressing harder, circling a bit faster and I shamelessly moaned out loud.

“Please fuck me… with your big… cock…” I pleaded.

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